


Unsteady

by oOReaOo



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOReaOo/pseuds/oOReaOo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I should've gone back. I should've helped him. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad."<br/>"Even after everything he did to you and your friends?"<br/>"Josh may have had some problems and what he did was wrong. But he's my best friend. I shouldn't have left him."<br/>"You forgive him?"<br/>"Of course... I grew up with him. Am I supposed to dismiss all the years he was there for me because one night he wasn't?"<br/>"Do you think things are going to change now?"<br/>"Yes. Of course."<br/>"For good or for bad?"<br/>"Are you asking for what I want or what I believe?"<br/>"Either one."<br/>"Good."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Have you ever heard of Regression to the Mean?" Dr. Bowen asked. She gripped her pen tightly, peaking up just slightly through her ginger fringe. Chris had been meeting with Dr. Bowen on and off again for a few weeks now. She, at times, seemed a bit ditzy and overly hopeful, but she had a degree in psychology, and had the knowledge that could battle Einstein's. Wasn't he insane or something? "Chris?"

"What? Sorry. It's the Xanax. It makes it hard to concentrate sometimes."

"It's okay. That's normal," she said, dipping her head slightly to jot down a note on her pad. Chris noticed that every week she seemed to have a new decorated pad for her notes. This week's was maroon-ish with a shiny film covering the front side. A picture of her daughter hung on the inside cover with a sticky note detailing plans for dinner later on tonight. Chris let out a low sigh; he had forgotten that outside of their sessions, Dr. Bowen had a life. He wondered if she took home with her, what her patients talked about. He wouldn't be able to handle her job. He'd care too much. "Chris? I asked if you'd ever heard of Regression to the Mean?"

"I don't think so. No."

"It means that the universe has to stay in balance. Not everything can be all bad. Something good has to happen to even it out." 

Chris nodded and looked away. "Doesn't that work vice versa then?" he asked. He pulled his legs up into the chair, sitting Indian style. He let his hands hang, his fore arms positioned on top of his knees. "If not everything can be all bad, then everything can't be all good either, right? The universe is just gonna do something extreme to tip the scale. To try to balance it." He wondered which side the scale was tipped for him. He didn't think it was as bad as on the mountain, but it wasn't good either. He could see it slowly balancing out right about now, waiting to tip either way. Regardless which way it went, Chris wasn't sure he would be prepared.

Dr. Bowen let out a lengthy, low sigh, "If you prefer to think of it that way. Most prefer to think of it as the light at the end of the tunnel."

*******

This would be the third of an endless stream of funerals. It would be followed by several more memorials, and yearly calls telling Chris that he had, in fact, survived another long year without his best friend. 

Honestly, Chris wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle this one alone. He cared for the others, he really did, but this one was different. This time, the coffin would be empty and he’d have the harsh reality of having to face Josh’s parents. God, what was he even supposed to say to them? I’m sorry? Sorry wouldn’t fix that their son was missing and most likely dead. He most likely would’ve suffered the same fate as his sisters by now too. 

Chris shuffled slightly to his right, leaning in closer to Sam and bumping their shoulders lightly to call her attention. “Does it ever go away?” he asked.

“Does what go away?”

“The wondering.”

Sam seemed to consider her answer. She tugged lightly at the bottom of her shirt, thinking of how to formulate her words in a way that wouldn’t make this day any harder for either of them. But she wasn’t entirely sure that was possible: “No.”

Chris drew in a breath. Of course, he had known the answer before he even asked it, but he still had hoped that he would come to accept that Josh had died. He didn’t want to spend his life wondering if, even by a small chance, he had survived. And if he was, they left him. Chris had left him on that mountain to fend for himself. 

Seeing Chris’ reaction, Sam quickly fumbled her words to attempt to cover up what she had said, “Even when I found out, I still wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently that night. You come to accept it but you’ll always ask questions about it.” That…. that sounds worse, Sam thought to herself, turning her attention back to the door. Chris hadn’t answered which either meant he hadn’t been paying attention or had nothing to say. And for the first time in Sam’s life, she didn’t know which it was. 

“I’m sorry,” Chris broke the silence. He stayed facing the doorway, eyes searching the crowd for someone they both knew wouldn’t be there. 

“For what?” 

“If this is what you felt for Hannah and Beth when they went missing, I’m sorry. It’s a horrible feeling. I hate it.” 

Sam found herself at a loss of words. The twins’ disappearance had affected them all differently, but Sam had been Hannah’s best friend. And Chris had been Josh’s best friend. She figured after coming off the mountain, they only had surviving in common… now it was so much more. Sam opened her mouth to voice her thoughts but Chris spoke first. 

“Fashionably late. As always,” he attempted to joke, though he obviously had no heart in it. He pointed towards the front of the church as Mike walked in. His hand had still been wrapped, making up for the disappearance of his pinky and ring finger. Mike spotted the two almost immediately and made his way over. 

“Sorry,” He started. 

“There’s been enough apologizing today. I don’t need you apologizing either,” Sam said holding her hands up. She was growing tired of everyone saying they were sorry about Josh, and she was sure Chris felt similarly. 

Mike glanced between the two, understanding only seconds later before glancing around the church. “Any sign of Josh’s parents?” he asked nervously.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Chris and Sam spoke in unison. Chris pointed towards the next wave of attendees. Sam followed his finger to the center of the group. Walking monotonously were the Washingtons, not a single tear shed. 

“We should say something,” Mike said turning to the others, “I don’t know what, but we have to say something.”

Chris only shrugged, “I’ve thought about it. I thinking saying nothing is better than something.” Besides, where would you start? Chris wasn’t sure if his first words to the Washingtons would be comforting them or blaming them. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to find out how that conversation would go. 

“I’m not use to you being serious,” Sam muttered under her breath, attempting to lighten the mood. 

“Only on Sundays.” The joke was met with silence. The three seemed comfortable with that. It seemed to end a conversation no one seemed to want to continue. Chris glanced around at how many people had shown up. He was pretty sure Josh hadn't even known half of the people here. Chris himself only remembered a few faces from pictures Josh's dad used to bring home of his co-workers. Josh would always ask about them, and seemed to know more than he should, but Chris wasn’t sure he had actually met them other than the pictures he had. 

“They’re starting,” Mike stated. 

The trio walked up to three empty seats, directly behind the Washington's. A fight or flight feeling settled in Chris’ stomach as he stared down the back of Mrs. Washington’s head. He wouldn't be able to hold himself together if they turned around. He didn’t know he would start crying with no chance of stopping or bite his tongue to keep from causing a scene if she happened to turn around. Chris could hear the footsteps of the minister as he made his way onto the stage, positioning his body behind the small coffin housing a white alstroemeria flower. Chris looked down at his hands, hooking his fingers together and tapping them one on one. 

“We gather here today to celebrate the life of Joshua Washington…” his words faded. Chris seemed to be replaying Josh’s life in his head already. That first day when Chris snapped at Josh for endlessly quoting Star Wars and the teacher threatened to move Chris back to the front. Which Chris would have agreed to if Josh hadn’t spoken up first. Needless to say, he was stuck there for the rest of the year. 

And that happened to be one of the best years of his life. 

“Chris,” Mike said, pulling Chris to his feet when he noticed everyone had turned to shake hands and share their condolences. Chris looked up at the first hand, making eye contact with Mrs. Washington. Both froze, unsure what to say. Chris took her hand; giving it a light shake before turning to whatever stranger had been sitting behind him and making his way across the room to avoid any more confrontation. He watched the group cross paths silently, shaking hands. Some were smiling, others seemed to hold no emotion. His eyes landed on Mike and Sam who seemed to have huddled in a corner themselves, looking around for a familiar face. 

“You okay?” 

Chris turned prepared to say ‘I’m fine’, but the words were lodged in his throat. Mr. Washington stood solemnly, watching Chris. He used to be close to Josh, and indirectly to Chris too. But he seemed to fade away as they got older. And now, Chris was looking at someone he thought he knew a while ago. He clamped his lips shut and made a B-line for the door. He could feel his eyes heating up, the tears already clouding the lower part of his vision. 

He pushed through the double doors, making his way down the stairs, dropping to sit down on the last. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t care for crying anymore, he had done enough of it in the past couple of weeks. He didn’t care who saw, he didn’t care for strangers thinking he wasn’t manly - he had lost a brother not too long ago. And he wasn’t so sure he’d ever be able to get that close to someone again. 

After Chris figured he was stable enough to drive, he took several deep breathes before forcing himself to stand and make his way to the crappy old Plymouth arrow truck. Josh had named it Basket Case because of the color and all the weird doodle scratches Chris’ father had made when he and his friends were in high school. 

He climbed in, thinking of the irony. Josh was missing - yet, for Chris, he was everywhere. He was in his car, his house, his thoughts… Chris wasn’t getting rid of him anytime soon. He started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and starting the 20 minute drive home. This was the worst part - he was alone in his car, he had time to think, to reflect, and to wonder.  
Chris shook his head lightly, attempting not to think about that night. Not while he was driving. The issue would have to be confronted, but he couldn’t do it while he was driving. He might just drive off the road. And he wasn’t sure if it would be purposefully or not. 

He pulled into the driveway, hooking the wheel, and slowing only when he saw another car already parked in the garage. It was his mother. She had probably gotten off work early, which was rare. Money was tight with college - not to mention all the missed classes and the therapy sessions and the hospital bills now piling up. Chris bit his lower lip, putting the car in park and turning it off. It died instantly. The garage door opened to reveal his sister. She flashed a small smile, her eyes crinkling slightly at the sides. 

Chris climbed out of the car, closing it ever so gently before walking up to the door. He was already ripping of his tie. Nicole stepped further into the house, holding the door open for her younger brother. 

“You okay?” She asked, following him through the hall into the living where he had positioned himself leaning on the door frame. “Chris?”

“No,” he finally said, leaning up against the frame even more before turning on his back and sliding down the wall. He brought his knees up to his chest. Nicole sat across from him crossing her legs. She didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. They sat in silence, Chris laying his chin on his knees and Nicole playing with the top of her Uggs. Neither of them moved until they heard a pair of car keys dropping onto the kitchen table. 

“Mom,” Nicole said standing up. Chris followed her gaze to their mom who was wearing a dress for the first time…. actually this is the first time Chris has ever seen her in a dress.

“Nicole, I’ll be out late tonight, is your brother home?” She asked, turning the TV on and flipping through the news until she found an update on traffic. 

“I’m right here,” Chris said, pulling himself to his feet. He figured, for his mom’s sake, he’d be fine. Just for tonight. Though he couldn’t hide his puffy eyes and red blotched face. 

“Come here,” She said pulling him into a hug. Chris pulled her in, fighting the tears as he leaned down to accommodate to her height, “I know you won’t believe me. But it gets better.” 

Chris didn’t say anything until she pulled away: “You look nice.” 

His mom gave a bittersweet smile, “I hope so.”

“Where are you going? I thought we were gonna stay in tonight, have a game night since we hadn’t had one in centuries.” 

“I know, honey,” She said, “Just this once. I’ll be here next time, I promise.” 

Nicole sighed, obviously irritated. Chris didn’t really care. It had been awhile since their mother had gotten back in the playing field. Sure, the timing wasn’t great but it was an improvement. 

“Well, I’ll be off, call me if you need anything,” she said, making her way to the garage before pausing and turning back, “Really - if you need anything-”

“We’ll call,” Nicole said. It always bothered her when their mom reinforced something both already knew, “Just go. We’ll be fine on our own.”

She looked at Chris for confirmation. He gave a small smile waving a goodbye. She seemed relieved that at least one of her children were accepting of her before she turned into the garage. 

Nicole leaned on the edge of the island, Chris taking a seat. Neither spoke until they heard the sound of the garage closing. 

“Game night, huh?” He asked turning to Nicole. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. 

“Every Wednesday,” Nicole said, “Just like before. Maybe you’d would have known we continued it if you hadn’t chose to live on campus.” Nicole said, poking him lightly, 

“Where am I gonna get another dorm room experience?” Chris asked quietly. His smile was small, and everything he said sounded like it physically drained him. He had made so much more progress though; it used to be the silent treatment, holed up in his room apart from interrogation after interrogation at the police station. She didn’t want to push him too far out of his comfort zone by pointing it out, so she treated him like she used too. Like a brother. 

“Just move all your stuff in my room - you’re gonna have an experience of a lifetime.” 

Chris; smile turned up, a small chuckle escaping his mouth at the thought of being roommates with her. He was certain he’d move out the same day he moved in. They just didn’t have many things in common other than growing up with each other. The same house was okay - the same room seemed to be pushing the limits: “What game did you have in mind?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s tradition.”

Nicole smiled at her brother, turning to find a board game only her eyes caught to the TV. The words: ‘MISSING TEEN FOUND IN MINES’ written across the bottom of the screen. 

“Oh my god,” she said. Chris turned to the TV. His body perked up at the news, his eyes recognizing the location immediately. The news reporter started speaking, but Chris’ eyes focused on the image. 

His best friend was being handcuffed and shoved in a cop car. Josh, who was beaten and covered with multiple bruises, Josh, who probably had more blood showing than skin, was being handcuffed and shoved in a cop car. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to handcuff and shove him in a cop car? 

“Chris-.” Nicole started, reaching for his car keys. His phone went off instead. He snatched it, expecting it to be Mike or Sam.

“Hello?”

“Christopher? This is Officer Richards. We’d like you to come to the station for more questioning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nothing's your fault, Josh. Give yourself time, you’ll learn to accept what has happened.”  
> "No, It's all my fault. Nothing will be okay. They're all dead."

“Why is he restrained?" Dr. Hill asked. He had gotten a full report on his injuries from the nurse in the waiting room. Josh had a few cuts and bruises, but surprisingly nothing else. He was mostly hospitalized for malnutrition. But with all this information one thing struck him as odd: Josh, regardless of not fully being in control at times, had never been violent. 

“He was thrashing around a lot. They had to restrain him so he wouldn't hurt himself or others - but he didn’t seem to be trying to hurt anyone. I think he probably just wanted people to back off," The security guard sighed. He seemed to be as equally disappointed as Dr. Hill was about the situation. 

They reached the double doors leading into a new section of the hospital and the security guard reached for his key card. When he yanked the door open, the hallway was revealed to be empty. The occasional nurse would walk by, but it was mostly deserted. 

"You’re extremely nice for a security guard.” 

"My wife had dementia. I see things differently now. It’s really not their fault is it?” The question was rhetorical. The security guard slumped slightly but eventually held his head high and continued to lead the way. 

"I'm sorry." Dr. Hill followed the security guard down the hospital hallway. 

“We moved him here to keep out the media,” The security guard said as they neared the room, "I don't know what happened. It was like someone just decided to leak out every single detail." 

"Mmhmm," Dr. Hill said, he wasn't really paying attention though. His thoughts wandered to Josh and the others - the world would surely think they were insane now. And there was no predicting how they would react to that. Their faces were known everywhere - and surely the spotlight wasn't a good one. 

The security guard opened the door. Dr. Hill stepped into the room, spotting the boy. Josh's head moved sluggishly to see who came. They made eye contact, but neither spoke until Dr. Hill had reached the side of the bed. He stayed silent though as he watched the two make their way to the side of the bed. 

"Why are you here?" Josh finally asked. His voice was raspy from lack of water, his eyes blood shot and irritated from the lights. "I don't want to talk to you."  
"I think it would help you more than you think.” 

"It didn't earlier. You're not real. It won't help me at all.” Josh turned his head away. Dr. Hill was sure it was the equivalent of him storming out of his sessions, only this time, he couldn’t move. He thought through Josh’s words. He had never addressed Dr. Hill as imaginary before. Even more, every word that had come out of Josh’s mouth was erringly calm.

"Why would you say that?" 

"Because you didn’t stop me like you promised. And now it’s my entire fault. They’re gone,” Josh said. He seemed to be drained of all emotion. Feeling the emotion that came with what he was saying appeared to be physically impossible, even Dr. Hill could see it. 

"Nothing's your fault, Josh. Give yourself time, you’ll learn to accept what has happened and everything will be okay.”

"No it won't. Nothing will be okay. They're all dead."

*****

“Chris, I could really use you help now,” Nicole snapped. She attempted to stay in her lane while dialing their mom on the phone. Chris hadn’t heard her, his eyes already spotting the station a little less than a few blocks ahead. “Hey mom,” Nicole’s voice came as she tried to turn into the parking lot, only to slam on her breaks almost immediately. Chris was pulled out of his thoughts and he placed his hands on the dashboard to keep from slamming into it. “You should be wearing your seatbelt!” Nicole lectured at her brother. He looked at the car they almost hit. Sam had climbed out of the backseat, her parents obviously yelling at her from the front seat. “Mom, we’re at the police station they – Hey, Chris, wait!” 

Chris climbed out to meet with Sam at the bottom of the stairs. The parking lot was packed. News stations from everywhere had come to the station. In the back of his mind, Chris knew exactly why, but most of him wished it was for something else. 

“You’ve heard,” He said as they rushed up the stairs. Neither glanced back at their families who had gotten out to speak to each other about the ‘almost accident’. 

“Of course I heard it’s all over the news,” Sam said. She pushed through the door first. Both froze instantly at the crowd of reporters. They all turned at once, flashing their camera. And then the questions came. One after another with no pause before the next one started.

“How are you feeling now that your friend was found?” 

“How do you think he survived?” 

“Are you upset that he pranked you?” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Sam muttered. Chris grabbed her arm, pulling her through the crowd where Officer Richards was attempting to get a few reporters off of Mike who had been waving them over. 

“Alright, Alright. Just leave them alone for now,” He said, ushering them back once Chris and Sam broke through the barrier. 

“Right this way,” Officer Sala said, beckoning them into a meeting room. Chris cast one more glance back at the reporters. They weren’t just covering Josh. They were covering the whole group. Last he checked, everything had been held a secret by the press – that didn’t seem to be the case now. 

“You guys just take a seat, relax, we’re gonna keep you in here until the station clears up and then move you to separate interrogation rooms. It will go similarly to when you were last here.” 

Mike groaned, but didn’t say anything else. Officer Sala nodded before heading to close the door. There was a soft click and all three turned their heads towards the door. 

“He just locked us in,” Mike stated angrily. He was on edge – more so than the others. Mike had become a ticking time bomb after that night. Chris and Sam always planned and mapped out every detail of possible conversations to have with him to avoid setting him off. Most days their plan worked, but there was the occasional day where they would open their mouths but Mike would explode before they even started talking. 

Sam walked over to the glass window looking out into the station, “There’s so many. There was only a few last time. What happened?” Chris shrugged, he had a few ideas – leaked information, unanswered questions… especially if Josh survived on that mountain for two weeks alone, there was no telling if someone else had too…

“This is stupid,” Mike said, dropping his arms on the table loudly. He winced slightly at his hand put pressed on, “You would think they’d try to keep everything bottled up. Now the whole world is gonna think-“ 

“Mike, slow down,” Sam said interrupting him, “What are you saying?” 

“Come on, you know someone blabbed. Now they’re all gonna think we should be sent to some psych ward because ‘Wendigos’ aren’t real.” 

“They can’t say that – everything that happened is explained because of that. The police looked past it. So nothing should happen.” Sam said, though it was more of a question than a reassurance. 

“The police don’t have a say,” Chris said, “It comes down to your psychiatrist, if you have one.” 

Sam gave Chris a sympathetic look. He didn’t notice though because he was busy looking out at the crowd. He spotted his sister. She was still holding her cell phone to her ear. Chris couldn’t tell if she was arguing with their mom or the policemen in front of her. Either way she was animatedly waving her arms, standing in front of a group of reporters who seemed to have stopped asking questions the moment she started waving her arms around as if making a point. A camera flashed and Chris covered his eyes. The press didn’t terrify him; in fact he didn’t really care for them. Another flash went off before the blinds had been drawn. Chris looked over at Mike who had gotten up and closed the blinds. He gave small nod in thanks and Mike returned it. 

“This is sick,” Mike started ranting again. He ran his fingers lightly across his bandaged hand. All the attention was new. The original story that went out was that a group of teens had become stranded on Blackwood Mountain some had gone missing others were found dead. That was it. Now the full details had been released. The door opened allowing the Washingtons to walk in than Officer Richards and Officer Sala. Richards ran a hand through his hair frustratingly before turning to Sala. 

“Find out who released information and tell them to meet me in my office when interrogations are over.” It was whispered, but everyone heard. Officer Sala nodded, leaving the room. 

“I’m sorry – normally we have these situations under control. The press is moving outside, we’ll move you guys in a few minutes.” 

“What about my parents?” Sam asked. 

“We’re working on getting all your families into the waiting rooms without any problems with the press, but you have to understand the station has a lot on their hands at the moment.” 

The door opened a third time revealing Dr. Bowen. Chris noticed she was dressed casually for the first time, her hair up in a messy bun. She worked for the state and closely with the police station, but she had obviously been called in today. 

She whispered something in Officer Richards’s ear. He nodded. 

“If you guys will follow me, we’ll take you to the interrogation rooms.” 

*****

"We gave them the okay to go to the lodge for the weekend. Josh had just finished his first year at college, the twins had graduated. It seemed like a good idea at the time. We just kind of wanted them out of the house for a few days," Mr. Washington was doing most of the talking. He laced his fingers together and maintained eye contact. He had been in town for a total of two days and already he was being called to the police station. He joked that it was a very all or nothing welcome, but he was immediately reprimanded by his wife. 

"How was he the days leading to the trip?" 

"He seemed... happy. He was talkative; he was definitely excited to go on the trip." 

"You're not home much are you?" 

"No but I was that particular weekend." 

"Why?" 

"Because I was between switching contracts for my next project." 

The officer didn't answer and just wrote down on the notepad. She dropped the pen and looked back up at the Washingtons. "Can you tell me a bit about how you found out?" 

"About the twins or Josh?" 

"The twins." 

Mr. Washington turned to look at his wife. She exchanged a look with him before looking back down at her hands. She didn't seem to be paying attention. 

"Um... Josh called us Sunday night, I believe?" He turned to his wife for confirmation. She gave a small nod. "They were coming back on Monday but he said that Hannah and Beth left the lodge. They... uh... I think they spent the entire day looking for them after the storm died down. But I can't be sure... it was all so long ago." 

"And you called the police?" 

"I did," Mrs. Washington spoke up, "As soon as I realized they were gone I called you. You sent enforcements up there and you brought everyone back. Except for..." 

"We know this part," The officer interrupted, "Tell me what Josh was like after." The question was meant with silence, the Washingtons exchanged glances before Mr. Washington decided to control the conversation again. 

"I wasn't around much but when I was, he seemed withdrawn. Like he never wanted to talk to us." 

"With all due respect Mr. Washington, I would like your wife to answer this question."

*****

“I’ve told you over and over again. I’m not telling you again.” 

“Michael, calm down. No one’s asked you anything yet.” 

“But I know you’re going to ask. And I don’t have to say anything. Did it ever occur to you what goes through my mind when I have to tell you the same story again?” Mike sighed aspirated; he did feel guilty, about everything. He could've tried harder, maybe if he had listened to Chris, they would be alive, and maybe if he and Jessica had stayed home like they originally planned, she would be alive... 

"Okay, let's talk about something else then..." 

"I don't want to talk with you at all." 

"We're talking about before you went up on the mountain." 

Mike seemed to think through his answer, before, "I think that topic is worse."

*****

“I-I didn’t think… when Mike and I went into the mines… I was sure he was gone.” Sam had given the most information. She seemed to be dealing better than the others. She could talk about it without complaint, though it was obvious reliving the moment wasn't a welcomed experience. "He was dragged off by... Hannah." 

"Hannah?" The officer perked up at this. 

"Yes, Wendigo Hannah." She figured, if the story was out, there was no point in hiding anything. The officer simply took note, but Sam could see the slight shake of her head.  
"I'm not insane," she defended herself: "I know what I saw. And I'm not the only one who saw it." 

"We sent a few teams up there, they've all returned alive," the officer said, "How do you think we found your friend?" 

"Luck," Sam said, angrily. She refused to tell them anything after that. 

*****

By the time she got to Chris, the officer was beyond irritated and was sure Chris would either call her out on being judgmental, or demand he see Josh before saying anything else. She had only questioned Chris once, and that was in the presence of the Sheriff - so she wasn't surprised to see Dr. Bowen sitting across the interrogation table, a coffee in hand.  
She took her seat next to Bowen and looked at a fresh pair of notes. Chris was leaning on his elbows, staring off into space - thinking about what was happening to his best friend, who was a little more than 2 hours away by now, possibly less.

“…Chris?”

“Where are you taking him?” 

“He is being flown to the nearest hospital to Blackwood Mountain," Dr. Bowen answered, earning herself a glare from the Officer. They were supposed to keep some of this information confidential but she apparently had no mind sharing it. 

“You’re not bringing him any closer?” Chris asked. 

“Not until we get the facts straight," Officer Sala said frustratingly, "Are you going to corporate?" 

A pause.

Officer Sala was about to ask the question again when Chris answered, "Yeah." 

Dr. Bowen seemed to be disappointed. She wanted Chris to fight back - progress would've been made. But, tonight he just seemed tired. And it showed. Each answer was less than six words and he refused to make eye contact with either of them. It was actually a setback from what they had been working on. 

It was confusing though, what was haunting Chris was answered - and it was a good answer, not the best, but his friend wasn't dead. She thought he would've at least started talking more. 

The questions kept coming and Chris answered as best he could. He told them about the prank, the stranger, the Wendigos... Dr. Bowen wrote her own notes. Chris hadn't told her this much until now, sometimes it was still hard to get him to talk about what happened on the mountain - other times he talked about it willingly but often withheld information.  
She wrote down a topic to bring up in tomorrow’s section before seeing a picture of her daughter. She was blonde, tall, blue eyes... kind of like Chris, actually. She smiled to herself thinking of her - she was the reason Dr. Bowen had devoted herself so much to helping Chris. More than her other patients. He reminded her so much of her daughter. 

"Does this mean we can cancel our session tomorrow?" Chris asked when Officer Sala announced they were done. It was the most words he had said that night. Dr. Bowen looked up from her notepad. The corners of his mouth seemed to be tugged slightly, forcing a small, almost invisible smirk.

"No." 

Chris was escorted into the waiting room last. He was immediately pulled into an embrace his mom who had cancelled her date. He buried his face in her shoulder, but it didn’t muffle the sounds of Sam’s parents reprimanding the station for their disorganization or Mike’s father attempting to calm him down. When Chris pulled away he realized, they were all still dressed in their funeral clothes. Who would have known that the same day you attend your friend’s funeral, he’s found alive against all odds – the irony was almost laughable. 

"Are you okay? Do we need anything? Do you need to talk to Dr. Bowen?" His mom said. 

"I just want to go home," Chris said quietly. His sister wrapped an arm around his shoulder. 

“I’ll bring the car around front,” their mom said turning towards the door. Nicole cut right to the chase the moment the door closed behind her.

"Josh doesn't have any visitation rights right now, but I figured, if you need to see him so badly, I will personally drive you up there - but you have to tell me so I can schedule with work and school, you know." 

Chris smiled at her, truly thankful to have her as a sister. She didn’t pretend to understand, but she didn’t treat him any differently either. “Thank you, but I'll drive myself. It’s something I have to do alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This oddly came off as happy... not what I was going for but I guess that's okay? It focuses more on the original characters and how they see the others. 
> 
> I honestly feel like this chapter was really bad...? I'm sorry This chapter in particular was really hard to write. Send me some feedback. I'm 80% sure I will come back to this chapter and rewrite a few parts. 
> 
> There will be more Josh eventually (I won't guarantee the next chapter only because he's really hard to write while staying accurate and realistic).
> 
> ALSO MORE NEWS: This story is gonna have a TON of flashbacks so if there's any particular memories you want to see or anything you would want to explain you can comment or message me on my Tumblr: http://ooreaoo.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn’t for the familiar varsity jacket sitting in the waiting room, Chris would have already been in the parking lot.

_“I got a problem, Mike,” Josh said with that smug smile he used to give Chris when the fought. The one when both knew Josh was right and he was just waiting for Chris to admit he was. “I don’t remember killing Jess.”_

_“Christ,” Mike said under his breath. He glanced over at Chris, his look told Chris that Mike thought Josh was absolutely insane and he couldn’t believe that they had become friends with a psycho. Chris shrugged at Mike, they had no control over who their friends turned out to be so he didn’t see the point in being that surprised that Josh was like this. Chris had watched Josh deteriorate after his sisters were gone – so yes, he was angry, but he wasn’t surprised._

_“I mean, like, I feel like I would remember killing her ya know? She’s so soft… and she’s probably got like a really tight bod…”_

_“Shut your fucking mouth!”_

 “Are you going to talk today?” Dr. Bowen asked. She had dark bags under her eyes from the night before and a slight attitude to match. Chris had half expected her to lecture him about the importance about progress and the need to step forward after you’ve taken a step back but she kept silent, waiting for an answer.

Chris’ eye wandered to the clock. It was only 5 minutes into their 45 minute therapy session. He hadn’t planned to say anything, but the clock was ticking slower and he needed to pass time.

“What am I supposed to say?’

“Let’s start with yesterday,” She said flipping open her notebook, “What happened when you went home?”

_Mike held the gun up to Josh – he didn’t shake. Chris wasn’t even sure if he was going to pull the trigger or not. The sudden action made Chris stumble backwards slightly in shock. The room was silent at first. Chris’ eyes went from Mike to Josh where they locked in eye contact. And almost as if an unspoken conversation had happened Chris hesitantly took a step forward and tapped Mikes arm lightly._

_“Come on, Mike, put the gun down…” He said turning his back to Josh as if he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of him. Put the gun down Mike we’re not killing my best friend; even if he might have possible killed your girlfriend. Yeah, sounds like a good conversation to have in front of said best friend._

_“Seriously? Did you think I was gonna shoot him?”_

_Mike took a step back. He seemed to have gone from angry to calm in a matter of seconds, holding his arms out as if this whole night was a joke. Yet, his tone was serious._

_“I- I dunno,” Chris said. He wasn’t so sure if he had been in Mike’s situation if he would have killed Josh. Ever since he had to choose between Josh and Ashley his mind had been so screwed up. He was second guessing all of his choices – he was weighing the possible outcomes… and he was starting to question if he actually knew his friends anymore and how much had actually changed in their time apart._

_“Come on, Chris, you know me better than that.”_

_Do I?_

“These sessions are just you asking about what I’ve done,” Chris sighed, “Is there really a point to what I did yesterday? You were there.”

“Sometimes to understand ourselves we need to understand our reactions.”

“I feel like you just made that up.”

“You’re lashing out.”  

Chris pressed his lips in a tight line. He was, he knew that much. But he really didn’t see the point in talking to her anymore. He wasn’t sure where the sudden aggression came from but all respect he had for her went out the window the moment he saw her sitting behind her desk, bun pulled up tight. She dressed like a CEO and with each meeting they had he felt like he was on the verge of being fired.

 _“Yeah, Chris. You know me better than that.” Josh whined, attempting to mock Mike. There was that faint crack in his voice – an underlying emotion Josh had only let out a few times when he put up his defenses. Chris learned how to recognize it when they were younger and as High school went on, than college he had mastered it. The faintest crack and Chris just_ knew _._

_He wasn’t so sure in this moment if he should apologize for not trusting Josh of keep silent. He stayed silent._

“Have you been taking your medication?” Dr. Bowen asked suddenly.

“Look, I don’t see the point in these. My best friend’s alive, the root of my problems are solved.”

“If you believe that you’re not looking deep enough.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

_“Why don’t you go back to the lodge and make sure everyone’s alright. I’ll stay here with this lunatic until morning.”_

_“Oooh! Sleepover! C-can we order pizza?” Josh said obnoxiously. It was terrifying, seeing him like this. He had his moments, but today was different. He wasn’t just projecting his emotions; he was messing with everyone else’s._

The grip on her pen tightened and she seemed irritated. He was testing her patience. He wanted to see her drop her wall he wanted her to be frustrated with him – to yell at him. “Take a breath, will you?”

“And feel myself?” he asked mockingly, “I get that this is your job and you studied for it, but you honestly are so ambiguous and you sound so ominous I’m starting to question you methods.”

“ _Chris_ ,” she snapped making Chris slightly jump, “Okay, it was very obvious that we were both up late last night,” she said setting her notebook on her table, “Let’s just call it a day, okay?”

_“Thank you.”_

*****

If it wasn’t for the familiar varsity jacket sitting in the waiting room, Chris would have already been in the parking lot. He had almost forgotten about Matt entirely. After they had gotten off the mountain, Matt was one of the first to head straight for a mental hospital. His parents’ had believed he was insane: _He belongs in the loony bin;_ Chris recalled overhearing his parents when they were first being questioned in the hospital. It had been months since he had last heard for him. The two weren’t even that close before. Chris figured, he should say something – given that they were probably now seeing the same psychiatrist

Chris sighed heavily and dropped himself in the seat next to Matt. He wasn’t sure if he should make eye contact or not given how awkward the situation was, so he settled for watching the clock on the wall.  

 “I almost thought you were gonna keep walking,” Matt said. His voice came small, almost as if he hadn’t wanted to speak at all. Chris knew the feeling all too well.

“I did,” Chris nodded, “But I came back.”

“Why?”

“I’m not so sure,” he said, “I’ve been doing a lot of things that I don’t usually do today.”

“Is it because of Josh?”

“Maybe,” Chris shrugged, “So um… when did you…?”

“Get out?” Matt asked, “Yesterday actually.”

Chris only nodded as if this was a common conversation between the two. Chris sat in silence. It occurred to him, he actually didn’t know Matt very well, if not at all. He didn’t even know where to begin a conversation. Matt didn’t seem to mind the silence, in fact, Chris was sure he preferred it. Still, Chris hadn’t mustered up the guts to just leave him there alone.

“Yesterday, Josh Washington, who was reported missing after he and a group of his friends illegally met up on Blackwood mountain was found starving in the mines yesterday afternoon. He was quickly rushed to the hospital for inspection. He is said to be recovering but that’s not what all the buzz is about. Our source tells us Josh, along with the other survivors of the Blackwood incident have reported seeing Wendigos. No teams have found anything leading to evidence that the Wendigos were real and are still looking for the bodies of Hannah and Beth Washington, Josh’s younger sisters who went missing a year earlier. Police are now questioning as if the use of drugs were –“

The receptionist cleared her throat setting the remote down. She gave a slight nod to Chris and Matt who both had become warped in the news report but were now stuck watching reruns of Sesame Street.

“You’re going to go see him after this isn’t you?” Matt asked. He turned towards Chris, making eye contact with him for the first time since they had gotten off the Mountain.

“Why would you think that?’

“It’s what you do.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short quick write because I haven't written anything in literal MONTHS and I just randomly have free time today! Yeah for me, cause my schedule for next semester is literally going to kill me (if you've done a musical, I'm sure you know how time consuming it is - especially with hell week coming up). 
> 
> Total bad day so I'm sorry if it's not high quality I just wanted to get something up because I really love this story. Which means that has official become a rough draft and probably has a lot of errors and a lot of tone changes and technical stuff like that. 
> 
> Also Important, I actually did want this chapter to feel rushed because Chris doesn't want to be there and he really wants to go somewhere else (I bet you already know where) and the flashbacks are just kind of random because he's thinking (subconsciously) about what he did to Josh and about leaving him in the Shed. Leaving people is actually really big in this and the next couple of chapters. I just wanted to explain that if it got confusing because I haven't had time to go over it and smooth out all the details. 
> 
> ANYWAY I'M BACK(ish)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING - THERE IS A VERY VERY BLUNT MENTION OF SUICIDE IN THIS CHAPTER  
> Also: Note to self - don't write a chapter right after spraining a finger... (it's not that bad, I used to play volleyball so finger injuries aren't new to me but it is still annoying).

You only read about how annoying therapy is to patients. All books seem to have the generic therapist asking the generic questions over and over, and there always is a different result. Eventually the patient will break down and suddenly they're entire back-story is revealed and emotions are released and all their obstacles come to light and they begin the process to healing. 

And that's only in chapter four. 

Matt, despite being in therapy for practically a year, hadn't breathed a word of that night. He was only released because he 'appeared stable' to his therapist. His award winning therapist who only consulted the best athletes and celebrities couldn't shrink Matt at all. In fact, Matt's pretty sure 'appeared stable' was code for - 'I don't know what is freaking wrong with this patient. Get him out of my office before he ruins my reputation'. 

That shouldn't surprise him - he was only seeing Dr. Stack because Stack wanted one of the infamous Blackwood Mountain survivors to add to his brochure of aided 'celebrities'. Matt was a market tactic. 

Dr. Stack was by no means successful either. Most of his patients became abusive towards their girlfriends, or were severe drug addicts. The usual 'scandal' in the athletic scene these days. Matt could honestly care less about him. 

Seeing Chris here was a shock, however. Sure, Matt was kind of between therapists at the moment, but he honestly didn't expect to see anyone else attending therapy. As far as he knew, Sam was holding up, Mike was - well Matt doesn't talk about Mike, and Chris had just gotten silent. As for the others... well, Matt hadn't heard much of them.

He knew about Jessica and Emma... but Ashley seemed to have just dropped off the face of the earth. As far as Matt knew, no one knew where she was. It was almost as if she wasn't real. Matt hadn't seen much of her that night, and he hadn't seen much of her after that. He figured if anyone was taking everything that happened as the absolute worst, it would be her. 

"You're name's Matt, right?" The receptionist asked over her glasses, "Dr. Bowen's ready to see you. She's the last door on the left."  
Matt sighed and started making his way towards the back. This new therapist, Dr. Bowen. She was supposed to be good, caring at least. All her reviews where mediocre. Still, they were better than Dr. Stack. Matt would agree to any other therapist if it wasn't Dr. Stack.  
He opened the door peeking in to see Dr. Bowen typing away on a computer. Probably notes from her last session. If Matt was honest, she didn't look too happy. In fact, she looked half dead. 

"Come on in," She said, pasting an obviously fake smile on her face. The bags underneath her eyes told Matt almost everything he needed to know, "I'm Dr. Bowen, your new therapist. have a seat. Since this is our first meeting we won't do too much. Just get to know each other a little better."

"Are you okay?" Matt asked, his eyes never leaving hers. Dr. Stack may have been a bad therapist, but he taught Matt how to tell when other people were stuck in their heads (let's just say Matt was on the receiving end of more than a rants). 

"Oh," Dr. Bowen seemed surprised by Matt's reaction. He wondered if she ever had a patient who talked to her normally before, "Um, yeah. Sorry, it's been a rough night."

"For you and me both," he muttered under his breath. He took the moment to look around the room. He spotted a cabinet filled with notebooks of he guessed patients. It usually was a different book per patient, which would explain why there was a plethora locked in the cabinet and not just a few. "How long have you been a therapist?" 

"Oh, um about five-six years now, I think. It's hard to keep track of the time."

"You've had a lot of patients."

"What?"

"The locked cabinet," Matt nodded towards it, "It wouldn't be locked up if those notebooks weren't confidential. Though they do give the room a... scholarly feel, I guess."

Dr. Bowen blinked, clearly caught off guard. She cleared her throat opening the new notebook and clicking her pen, "You're very observant." 

Matt shrugged. His eyes trailed down to the notebook as Dr. Bowen wrote the session number and date. 

"My last therapist recorded his sessions," Matt said, "I don't think that turned out well for him."

"Oh, well it works for some. I prefer to write my notes, it's easier to remember."

Dr. Bowen looked up. Her smile more genuine now, thought it was clear that she was tired and would rather call it a day. Matt decided not to ask about it further. She seemed to be doing fine so far, and he didn't have to await a long intense, accusatory rant by the end of the session. 

"Why don't you tell me about yourself? I see you play sports."

"Used to," Matt corrected her, "You know with everything, it was just kind of hard to focus on the game. Besides, my teammates kept asking questions that I didn't want to answer."

Dr. Bowen nodded, though her eyebrows came together while she mulled over what Matt had just told her, "What topics are you willing to talk about?"  
Matt thought about it. He generally didn't like to talk at all anymore. Silence was preferred. But then he'd be sitting in a silent room awkwardly for an hour and that didn't seem like it'd pass over quickly. 

"I guess, before is fine... and maybe a bit of after..."

"What about Emma?"

"No." The answer was short and swift. Dr. Bowen looked like she expected the hostility of the answer. Or at least, she had dealt with patients who refused to talk about certain subjects.

"That's fine, we don't have to talk about her if you don't want to."

"Not right now at least," Matt sighed, "I know you're gonna bring her up eventually."

"But like you said, not right now." 

Matt nodded as Dr. Bowen continued writing, "Okay, let's talk about before then..."

*****

Dr. Bowen was nicer than Matt had expected. Even if she looked like she wanted to throw a book across the room for half of his session. She seemed to visibly relax throughout the session and talk to Matt normally. 

Matt already preferred her over Dr. Stack. She seemed like she had dealt with PTSD patients before.  
Matt made his way towards the bus stop hands stuffed in his pockets. The press hadn't gotten word about him being back in town yet so he figured he had a few days of privacy before the cameras started flashing. 

Thanks to the media, Matt had been able to keep tabs on everyone else apart from Ashley. They all seemed to be doing pretty well considering. Matt was sure there were times where they lapsed or something happened and they didn't take it well, but no one had tried to off themselves with a vacuum cord so Matt considered that good. 

Matt himself, he was dealing. He wouldn't say he was okay, but he wasn't having a low right now. Most days he lock himself in his room and refused to talk. Sometimes he refused to eat and just wanted to sleep the entire day. The lows were the worst. Today was a medium, he wasn't happy but he wasn't sad. He simply just did not feel good. 

He very rarely had highs anymore. TV shows didn't make him smile, he didn't have the energy to go for a run... he was stuck. What scared him the most, was that he was okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a long note - just hang in there: 
> 
> 1\. I deleted the last 2 chapters. which were basically just author notes - but if you have any headcanons as (Shout Out to CinnamonMilkToast who gave me the word I was looking for) I'd love to hear them so I could incorporate them in the story. 
> 
> 2\. Who knew the beginning of chapter would be so... meta...
> 
> 3\. I absolutely love Jordan Fisher with every fiber of my body and needed a chapter just for Matt so here it is. 
> 
> 4\. I know it's short. I just wanted to get something out there. If I'm being honest I forgot what I was going tow rite next so I'm in the process of rereading to figure out where I want this story to go. I don'y think I had a clear vision when I started writing this anyway, so It's a good idea to start from the beginning again. 
> 
> 5\. If you see any grammatical errors please let me know! I won't be angry if you tell me I'm using a word wrong or something like that. Or just leave a comment - they make my day and remind me why I spend hours banging my head against the wall. Tell me what you like, what you don't like, ask me about my personal life, or just tell me how your day's going. I'm open to conversation. 
> 
> Anyway, I've got a bunch of college essays to write so I'll see you guys (hopefully) next week.


End file.
